


The Debt Collectors

by CATIM



Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine, Cuphead (Video Game), Skullgirls
Genre: Action/Adventure, Bendy is a smol bean in his thirties, Betrayal, Brief cameos and such, Cuphead doesn’t know when to stop, Demons, Everyone has a problem, Mainly the three above, Mischief Peacock, Multiple References, Multiple indie titles games involved, Possession, Seven Deadly Sins, This world is going to make no sense XD, more tags to come, still trying to figure this out
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2019-02-07
Packaged: 2019-02-23 08:06:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13185870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CATIM/pseuds/CATIM
Summary: Bendy made a deal with the Devil. Two months later, he wants out. Fortunately, the Devil is willing to give him a chance to win his freedom back. Unfortunately, he has to collect soul contracts from runaway debtors scattered across the world within a time limit. Maybe with the help of two experienced cups, a spunky bio-mechanical teenager and an old friend, he might be able to pull this off.





	1. Don't go to Inkwell Isles

**Author's Note:**

> I'm warning you now!  
> This is going to be a weird adventure story!  
> But hopefully entertaining too.
> 
> The main focus will be on the three title games: BATIM, Cuphead and Skullgirls(Peacock's story) but like I said in the tag, there will also be brief interactions with other indie game characters from...a couple titles I currently have in mind, and a lot of references from other indie titles. Some of these characters might even have contracts that need taking.

“Don’t go to Inkwell Isles” they said. “It’s dangerous,” they said. Perhaps Bendy should have listened to his friends. He was curious though. Everyone back in Sillyvision always talked about how tough the folks of Inkwell were. How it was a death wish for outsiders to travel there. Bendy would fall on his back laughing whenever he heard that rumor, if the fat cats of the television industry weren’t always around him, judging him. It’s just so hard to imagine an island full of (what Joey calls) rubberhoses as dangerous. Sure, those Inkwell folks can be tricky, even a little harsh with the antics, but dangerous? It was just a bunch of spewing nonsense.

Or so Bendy thought...

The Devil loomed over him with big yellow eyes, teeth sharper than piranhas spread across his face. “Well, do we have a deal?” The Devil’s deep voice rattled the craps table. Bendy stared at the dice cup in front of him. It was black, leathery and had a red felt interior. Inside was a pair of white dice waiting to be tossed.

The Devil’s offer was outrageous if not strange. If Bendy wins, he gets the casino’s profit for the day; if he loses, then he will be forced to work under the Devil.

 

Bendy put his hand up to decline. “Sorry, but I have no interest in your gold.” He said boldly.

 

The Devil shot the little demon a bewildered look but chuckled. No one had ever turned down his offer of riches, but then again, he’s never caught a famous outsider in his casino before. “Of course you don’t, I bet you made plenty of gold from your show.” He stated, so nonchalant that Bendy swore he was mocking him.

 

So his gut feeling was right, he’s recognized in Inkwell. The Bendy show ended a long time ago, but to this day he still gets noticed. Bendy thought it was a bit fishy that he was invited to meet the king of hell himself. He should have left when the strange blockhead man approached with the VIP invitation, but his darn curiosity just wouldn’t let him. Now the question is, why? Why would The Devil want him?

 

“I prefer paychecks.” Bendy shot back. “And I’m wise enough to know how this devil trope works.”

“Oh?” The Devil leaned back in his seat allowing the darkness of the dim crimson room conceal his face and brighten his eyes. “Enlighten me.”

 

Bendy sneered and shifted in his high-class leather chair to get comfortable. “Easy, you want me to agree to a bet under your conditions by offering me something you’d think I want, right? A blind man would accept if it were gold…but I’m no blind man.” He chuckled. “If I roll those dice, you are going to use magic or assistance, something to make sure they roll in your favor.”

 

“You saying my bets are rigged?” The Devil questioned, raising his amused brow.

“About as rigged as your casino,” Bendy said. Damn, it felt good to be away from the studio. Joey would have a cow if he heard him talking like this to someone as big as The Devil. It’s nice for once, to not have someone on his back about how to speak and act around the big shots. His snarky mouth had gotten him into trouble before, but this was fun.

 

The Devil bellowed with laughter and just about shook everything in the room. “I can see why you would think that way, boy.” Boy? How old does this ape think he is?

 

“But I’m not wrong, am I?”

 

The Devil shrugged his broad shoulders. The smile on his face gave no hint whether his next words were genuine. “I might have tweaked a game with a couple of troublemakers in the past. However, I play fair with my visitors.”

 

“Your visitors?”

 

“You think you’re the only outsider to visit my best casino?” The Devil spread out his big arms to emphasize his point. “You are one of many to try your luck, and I like to treat Inkwell Isle’s guests with great hospitality. Especially famous ones like yourself.”

 

“Uh huh.” Bendy rose from his chair. He wasn’t buying any of that hogwash. “Flattered as I am, Devil, I will still be taking my leave empty handed.”

 

“Wait!” The Devil sputtered. “What if I offer you something more than just gold?” The way he was pulling out all his cards, trying to get him to make a bet, it sounded so desperate. Bendy couldn’t help but bust out a laugh. Really? This was the big bad Devil?

 

“There is nothing you have that I want.” Bendy retorted then turned to leave.

 

“Not even a solution to Joey’s sickness?”

 

His hand was on the doorknob when those words froze his very being. His mind screamed at him to leave. Keep moving. Don’t fall into this trap! His body, however, wouldn’t listen. Bendy looked back to see the Devil’s sharp grin as if he had just won a prize and spoke with a lot of venom in his voice.

 

“What are you talking about, Devil?”

 

“Dice!” The Devil shouted, and the same blockhead man that gave him the invitation was beside the king of hell in an instant. The man, Dice, looked snappy in his lavender coat tail and dress pants. He held a proud stance that seemed to swing with the jazzy music playing from the speakers.

Carelessly Dice tossed a newspaper across the craps table. “All news comes to Inkwell eventually” He spoke with a sneer.

 

Bendy stormed across the room to snatch up the paper. The news was on the front page.

 

**BENDY SHOW CREATOR AND DIRECTOR, JOEY DREW, DIAGNOSED WITH RARE ILLNESS**

 

Bendy felt his heart sink. He knew about this before it was in print, but the situation was only now hitting him, and it was hitting him hard. It didn’t help that the newspaper company picked an old image from when the Drew Studios was still a new thing. The picture was a close shot of Alice, Boris, and Bendy with Joey in the center. Alice was on Joey’s left blowing a kiss to the camera as she does to their fans on tv. Boris was smiling and waving on his right, and because of his small size, Bendy was standing in the front. His hands were up in the air, waving out in a ‘ta-da’ gesture. Joey looked so young at the time and was the only one in the photo that held a professional appearance with his smile. Everyone seemed happy.

 

Bendy slammed the paper on the table. “What do you want from me!?” He yelled. “Why are you trying so hard to get me to make some stupid bet with you!?”

 

“Because I’m a fan, Bendy the Dancing Demon!” The Devil spread his arms out and bellowed “I loved your show, and I’m not the only one. My regulars are fans too. Inkwell absolutely loved The Bendy Show, and having someone as talented as you on these isles, working at my casino, would make this place more than a five-star rating.”

 

“Five star my arse! The machines are rigged, and the casino owner is a psychopath. Also, I don’t think you thought this through, big guy. The Bendy show may be over, but I still work with Joey at the studio. I’m not gonna leave him.”

 

For an odd quiet moment, The Devil shared a surprised look with Dice, and Bendy was sure it was some stupid act just to be sarcastic jerks. But then The Devil turned back to him with his most prominent smile yet. “You don’t know?” He said with a lot of amusement in his voice.

“That’s quite unfortunate,” Dice added.

 

Bendy felt a growing unease. “Know about what?” He asked, then forced himself not to react when the Devil stretched his long arm across the table. The very tip of his sharp nail tapped the newspaper. “Read the last paragraph.”

 

Bendy hesitated at first but complied. He skimmed through most of the parts that briefly talked about the studio’s history then stopped when his eyes caught the last sentence.

 

_Due to the circumstances, Drew has informed us that he will be handing over the reins of ‘The Drew Studio’ to a new owner at some point next year._

 

Did…he read that right?

 

Bendy skimmed through the paragraph again. The Devil and King Dice watched him amusingly.

No….no...this can’t be real. Joey would have told him. Why would he NOT inform him about something as important as this! This is a trick. It had to be.

 

“You’re messing with me,” Bendy growled, and The Devil held up his large hands in mock defense.

 

“I’m afraid it’s the truth. Did you really not know, or are you messing with me?”

 

“Shut up!” Who cares if this was The Devil, he was getting sick of this game. “Joey would have told me if he was selling the studio.”

 

“Except he didn’t.” The Devil retorted. “Deny it all you like, Bendy, but this is the truth.”

 

“This doesn’t make sense though...” Bendy said quietly, but he knew deep down that it kinda does. Joey is a very secretive man who kept a lot of troubling things to himself. He’d say it’s because he didn’t want to cause an argument, but some of the staff would question that. Hell, it took him a month after he was diagnosed to tell anyone he was sick. Bendy was the first to know. But this was different. How could Joey tell the news about selling the studio but not him? Is the sickness this bad? Was he afraid Bendy was going to be angry? Why Joey? Why keep all these secrets from the ones who care about you?

Bendy couldn’t imagine the Drew Studio without Joey. He couldn’t imagine a world without him either. He might lose both.

 

“How about we forget the dice,”

 

Bendy’s heart kicked into gear. For a still moment, he forgot where he was and was startled by the devil’s large hand that reached for the dice cup in front of him, taking it away. “Let’s make a deal we both can agree on.”

 

There was a long silence during which Bendy boiled in his anger. He was mad, but not just at the Devil anymore. He felt betrayed.

 

“What deal do you have in mind?” He managed to calm his voice. It took a lot of willpower not to shout vulgar things at the Devil’s smug face.

 

The larger demon tapped his chin in thought. “Welllll, how about this. Work for me and my casino will pay for all of Mr. Drew’s future medical expenses. He’ll be under great care for the rest of his days.”

 

Bendy winced at that last part. “What makes you think he or I can’t pay for it?” He argued.

 

It was the Devil’s turn to laugh, he hugged his middle and chuckled as if he just heard the best joke ever. King Dice joined him. “I know you were a big star at one point in your life, Bendy, but it will take more than the amount you made to help Mr. Drew. With a rare illness like the one he’s suffering from, it would take more than what you both made.” 

Damn. The Devil was probably right. Joey didn’t say much after his last doctor visit, and when treatment came up, he avoided talking about it. It hadn’t struck Bendy until now that Joey might be hiding more secrets then he thought. His hands curled into fists on the table just thinking about how many there could be.

 

“Well, is it a deal?” The Devil leaned forward in his chair, his piranha tooth smile widened as he waited for his answer. Bendy didn’t have one. Just silence.

 

“Did the truth anger you?”

 

Wasn’t it obvious? Of courses he’s angry, Joey made a big decision without him. Also, there’s a large ugly demon sitting here, ticking him off.

Bendy let out a deep breath, exhaled, then let out another, calming himself again. He closed his eyes and pondered over the deal. He loved Joey, there was no doubt about that, even after discovering this bit of heart-wrenching information he would still look up to the man like a father.

But would he be willing to sacrifice his freedom for Joey?

 

The Devil rose from his chair when Bendy once again failed to respond. His bulky frame shrunk little by little with each step he took around the table, until the point he was only twice the size of the smaller demon. “Think about it,” He said, and a long arm snaked its way around Bendy’s shoulders.

“When the studio is sold, you’ll have to work with someone different. Different rules, different schedule, different life…do you want that, Bendy?”

 

Head turned away from the Devil, Bendy crossed his arms and grumbled. “No, but what would be different from working with you?” Suddenly, he was lifted; forced into an awkward side hug by the Devil’s large arm. It squeezed his middle and trapped him against the large demon’s chest.

“You’ll be working for a cause, to give Mr. Drew a few more years. And who knows within those years a miracle might save his life. What did he use to say again?” While the Devil pondered, Bendy struggled fruitlessly to get out of his hold. Then he quoted word by word, in an altered voice that was horrifyingly similar to Joey’s.

“With enough belief, you can even cheat death itself.”

 

“Put. Me. Down.” Bendy growled.

The Devil did as he wished. He let go, and Bendy dropped to the floor like a pile of dirty laundry, no grace, no care. His back hit the velvet carpet first, then his head. He laid there on the floor, hurt, dizzy, mad, until the throbbing in his skull ebbed away.

The Devil towered over him, watching while he fought through the dull pain to get back on his feet.

“Ugh, get to the point, ape!” Bendy shouted. His hand mindlessly searched for the tender spot on his head.

 

“What I’m saying is, you can still work for Mr. Drew, just…under different circumstances.” The Devil said. He began pacing around the table while he talked. “Let’s face the truth here. Without Joey, the studio is destined to fall; it’s already heading down that slope. You know it, I know it, and I defiantly know you don’t want to be there when it’s finally abandoned.” Selfish as it sounded, there was truth to that, but Bendy wasn’t going to admit it out loud. He kept quiet, and as much as he didn’t want to, he continued to listen.

“If you quit the studio now and work for me, I’ll make sure everything Mr. Drew needs to keep stable is paid for, all his treatments, medications, overdue bills, you name it. You can consider it a final deed to your father…or a chance to save his life.”

 

The Devil stopped at the other end of the table. After he was done, another long silence dragged on. The only sound was the soft buzz of music from the speaker.

 

Bendy thought about everything that was said in this room. About Joey, about the studio…about changes…

Then he peered up at a red painted clock hanging over the exit. It had a long hand and a short hand in the shape of black pitchforks. The short one was almost pointing to the five, and the long one was just past the nine.

He told Boris he would call around five to let him know his train made it to New Meridian, except he took a ferry to Inkwell Isles instead. As far as he knows, everyone at the studio thinks he’s vacationing at a big fancy hotel in one of the most bustling places in the world…not talking to the king of hell about deals.

Bendy lowered his gaze to the floor. He sighed. He cursed under his breath. He made his decision. “Can I make a phone call first, before I give you my answer?”

 

A surprised expression crossed the Devil’s face and stole away his devilish grin. Then it hardens into a suspicious frown. “Dice,” He demanded at the snap of his long fingers, looking sternly at his lackey. The blockhead man in purple nodded at his boss. Then he went to Bendy and put a cordless phone on the table in front of him. 

Bendy picked it up and dialed a number he knew by heart. It ranged twice before Boris answered. “Hello?”

“Boris,”

There was a pause.

“Bendy? Whose phone are you using, I don’t recognize this number.”

“Boris listen,” Bendy steeled himself. He had to rip this bandage off now before they come looking for him. It had to be done. For Joey. “I need you to tell everyone I’m leaving the studio.”

Another pause.

“W-What? Bendy what are you talking about!?” Boris stammered. It sounded like he was about to cry.

Another pause.

“Bendy answer me. What is going on?”

Another pause.

“Hello? Bendy?”

Damn it, this was hard.

“I’m not coming back.” Bendy blurted out.

“What—”

Click!

Bendy disconnected the call before Boris could finish. It didn’t surprise him one bit to see that sharp smile back on the Devil’s face when he looked up. He glowered at it, hated it immensely. He’ll have to get used to it.

“Alright Devil,” Bendy slapped his hands down on the table. “You got me. Now let’s talk more about this deal.”


	2. Don't Lose Your Temper

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this took a month. I'm like the world's slowest typer.

 

_Two months later_

 

A cylinder glass filled with toxic booze sits dangerously close to the edge of a poker table occupied by four skeletons. The owner of the drink wasn’t paying attention; too busy having a good time joking with his buddies and being reckless with his money. Every time he laid down his arm, he pushed against the glass and pushed it further to fall. The skeleton wearing a grey fedora warned the owner when he noticed it, but at that moment he was too eager to listen.

 

It just so happened he had a winning hand, and when he went to throw his arms up to announce his victory, his elbow bumped against the glass, and it tilted. The fedora skeleton grabbed for the drink, but the fall was already in motion. It hit the floor and spilled booze everywhere.

 

“Aw, that’s a real bummer, man.”

 

“I told you to be careful!”

 

Bendy whirled around. On tiptoes, he peeked over the bar and to his dismay, saw a maroon color stain on the casino’s red carpet.

“Ugh!” He groaned and almost slammed his head on the counter. Given that this was another of one those dreadful days that didn’t seem to want to end, he was pretty irritated. “Unbelievable, and it’s always the skeletons.” Bendy complained loudly, not particularly to anyone, while he searched for a rag.

“Leave it. It can be someone else’s problem.” A voice came behind him. It sounded monotonous and boring. Bendy knew it could only be the voice of his lazy co-worker, turned his head to the right and stared at the relaxed demon lying on the floor.

“You’re the janitor, Sloth. It’s your job to clean,” He managed to hold back from shouting despite his new frustration towards the demon, and continued his search for something to soak up the stain. “But somehow King Blockhead will find a way to blame me for this if it doesn’t get cleaned, so I’ll do it myself.”

 The Deadly demon, Sloth, had his head adjusted on top of unopened napkins packs like a makeshift pillow. While lying comfortably on his side, he kept one eye closed and the other half-open and lazily fixed on Bendy. “That guy is looking for anything to suck up to the Boss. He always blames me for something, and I don’t do anything.”

Bendy rolled his eyes. Of course, the laziest Deadly wouldn’t understand why being lazy leads to complaints. “Have you ever thought that maybe it’s because you never do anything?”

 

Sloth shrugged his shoulders; a gesture Bendy learned meant ‘who cares’ since working with the demon. “He can complain all he wants; the Boss isn’t going to punish me. We Deadlies are his right-hand men,” He said, but then shifted his gaze to the ceiling, looking uncertain. “...or would it be left-hand men?”

The demon didn’t ponder the thought for too long, shrugging it off like he does everything else. “Whatever, we’re demons that work for the Devil, so it’s not like we have much to lose anyway.”

 

“That’s easy for you to say,” Bendy thought of Joey and wondered how everyone at the studio was doing right now. He could imagine the first days after the call were particularly stressful for Boris. The wolf did call several times that night, which led to a few disgruntled comments from King Dice and his petty hatred toward Bendy.

He hadn’t heard anything about Joey yet. That worried him the most.

 

With no luck finding a rag, Bendy opened the third drawer above the wine cabinets and found a polishing cloth instead. “It’ll have to do.”

He grabbed it and then stepped over the lounging demon who didn’t even have the curtsy to move, but that was to be expected. “Oh no, Sloth. You don’t need to help me. I got this.” Bendy sarcastically muttered as he left the bar. The Deadly didn’t comment.

 

When he approached the poker table, two of the four skeletons were on their hands and knees picking something off the floor. The demon wasn’t sure what, until he noticed the cylinder glassware sitting on the table again. It was cracked pretty badly with a huge chunk of its glass missing on one side. How they managed to break the darn thing on carpet flooring is beyond him.

 

“You never listen,” Scold the fedora-wearing skeleton to his careless friend. “I tell you to be careful, and you look what you do.”

 

“Alright, Geo, I heard you the first time. Give it a rest already!” The other snapped back. They were all wearing grey mob suits, but this skeleton, in particular, had a purple striped tie hanging loosely around his neck and a pair of large sunshades over his eye sockets. He looked ridiculous, like someone who parties way too much, ridiculous.

“I’ll give it a rest when you pay for the damage.” His fedora friend retorted.

The two uninvolved skeletons were minding their business while this was going on. The dealer, who was a demon Bendy often saw (but could never remember his name) even had a cigar lit to start off his smoke break. It seemed like they were bored waiting for this argument to blow over. The winnings must be good for them to willingly stick around.

“Aw, crap. One of the Deadlies is here.” The tie-wearing skeleton broadcasted.

 

Everyone around the table perked their head up, and only the dealer scoffed when he saw who it really was.

“That ain’t no Deadly. It’s just the Dancing Demon guy— Benny. He lost a bet with Old Scratch.” Bendy made a face at the dealer. Good to know the feeling was mutual here, the demon couldn’t remember his name either.

 

“It’s Bendy, and I didn’t lose a bet with anyone. We made a deal.” Corrected Bendy. He dropped the cloth over the stain, and while on one knee, began blotting it.

 

“Whatever man, you would have lost to him anyway. No one ever beats the Devil in dice.” The dealer spat. Then with a sneered he flicked the ashes from his cigar over the carpet. “But if you ask me I say he’s wasting his time with you. Any demon tamed by humans is a disgrace.”

 

Bendy’s fingers curled around the clump of fabric in his hand. He pressed harder on the stain to speed up the cleaning process. It wasn’t working, but it was at least keeping him distracted from doing something he knew he’d regret later, and that’s punching the dealer in the face.

It’s during moments like this when he could feel his composure slipping, he would think back to the advice a friend once told him.

 

_“Breath. Take a deep breath. Count to three then exhale but do it slowly. Find a pattern and forget everything else around you. Focus only on breathing.”_

After taking in a deep breath of stale air, he counted up to three in his head.

_‘One…two…three…breathe’_

Slow and easy, he breathed out through his mouth.

Bendy repeated this exercise several times until a calmness had settled in his body. His hands loosened, his heart slowed, and despite everything, he felt a sense of serenity from just breathing. Then the dealer opened his mouth again. “So did you break the leash old man Drew had on you or did he finally croak?”

 

Bendy bowed his head, hiding the fury that flashed on his face. The caged fiend inside of him fought harder to break out. He wanted so bad to smash the dealer’s head against the table, over and over until it splintered. He wanted to throw him through the 2nd—…no, 3rd-floor window and laugh at his misery while he cried and pulled glass from his arms. He wanted to bring a hammer down on his legs, smash his bones to bits and force him to crawl back to the pit of hell where he’s from. The very ideas split a crooked grin across his face.

These feelings were no stranger to him. Though never acted upon, Bendy always had the most violent thoughts when provoked. He learned to resist the temptation to act on them, but to say it’s been a struggle since he started working at this screwed up casino would be an understatement. The true demon in him was showing more, and the only thing saving the dealer from his rage was the one called ‘Old Scratch.’ The Devil.

 

“What are you laughing about?” The dealer snarled, snapping Bendy out of his twisted daydream.

 

Laughing? Was he laughing? All these ideas of pain and suffering upon this jerkwad were just so enjoyable to imagine, he hadn’t noticed he was laughing.

 

_‘Calm down. Breathe.’_

He cleared his throat before taking in another deep breath, repeating the exercise.

_‘Now focus.’_

On breathing, cleaning, anything that was distracting.

There wouldn’t be hesitation to fight had he not made a deal with the Devil. Sure, he’d still get in trouble if he broke a few bones and damaged some property, but the full punishment package would at least be put on him and not on Joey’s living expenses. And Bendy wasn’t about to risk that.

With his head still low and his eyes to the ground, he continued cleaning the carpet with a partly soaked cloth.

 _‘Ignore him. He’s not worth it. Don’t let him get to you, do_ n’t _—'_

 

“Got nothing to say, huh? As I thought, like a tamed mutt.” The dealer gave an amused chuckle and flicked his cigar again, adding another ash pile to the floor. He opened his mouth to say more, but thankfully the fedora-wearing skeleton stepped in to shut him up.

“Hey buddy, can’t you smoke that somewhere else? I know we don’t have lungs and all but it’s looking like a chimney in here, and frankly, it’s irritating.”

The dealer glared at the skeleton, and the skeleton shot a look back that challenging him to say or do anything that wouldn’t lead him into trouble. The Devil may not care how his employees talk to each other, but to a customer, the people bringing him the dough, he at least had a few rules about that. The skeleton knew the rules, and from the hesitant look on the demon’s face, he knew them as well.

 

“Fine,” The dealer hissed. With one last sneer over Bendy, he stood from his chair and left the table to have his smoke break somewhere else. Good riddance.

 

“Geo, what the heck are you talking about, you smoke more than any of us.”

 

The fedora wearer shrugged at his friends. “He was being an arse, had to say something to get rid of him.”

 

Bendy smiled his relief. “Thank you. I was about to wring his neck.” And snap it if he was still showing his ugly smirk.

 

The skeleton rattled with laughter. “I wouldn’t blame ya if ya did. And don’t mention it, I’m just helping one of my favorite tv stars.”

 

“Oh, you’re a fan?” Bendy stood and stretched the stiffness out of his spine. The stain was still visible, but there wasn’t much more he could do about it at the moment. “I’d give you an autograph if you wanted one, but I left my pen and notepad at the bar.”

 

“That’s alright; it’s a pleasure just meeting you. I will say though, I’m a bit surprised and a little disappointed to see you working anywhere that’s not on the stage.”

 

“Yeah, about that...” Initially, he was supposed to compose shows on the casino’s old stage and co-star with the famous Sally Stageplay and her husband. When he called up Mrs. Stageplay with the proposal, however, she refused and even warned him to leave the place as soon as possible. Curiosity drove him to ask her why she’d refuse such a big paycheck, he wasn’t trying to be pushy about it, but apparently, he crossed the line. She yelled through the phone that she would never ever go to the casino and asked him to never ever call her again before hanging up.

He had to tell the Devil that shows weren't going to happen if he couldn't find other actors, and strangely enough, the Devil brushed it off. He stuck Bendy with the Deadlies instead, and he’s been rotating jobs with them ever since.

“There were some complications,” Bendy said, in short of explaining.

 

“That’s a bummer. Not enough staff?”

 

He shook his head. “It’s a bit more than that, but it’s fine. Knowing the Devil, he would have stopped the production anyway once he realized it wasn’t increasing his income. Folks don’t go to casinos to see retired actors on stage.”

 

That brought a sadden look over the skeleton’s face. “Still it would have been cool to see you in the spotlight again.”

 

“Yeah,” Was all Bendy could think to say. It wasn’t uncommon to hear those kinds of comments from fans. He just never had a real reason as to why he stopped acting after the Bendy Show ended so he wasn’t too disappointed with the whole thing not working out.

 

The skeleton was about to say something else when he suddenly looked over at his tie-wearing friend and crossed his bony arms. “You done yet?”

 

His friend grunted as he rose from under the table and held up a shard of glass between his thumb and forefinger. “yeah no thanks to your help.” 

 

“I’ll take care of that,” Bendy went to the nearest wall to drag back a trash bin. He threw away the glass and other trash that littered the table. While cleaning the ash piles, one of the quiet skeletons of the group came forward but he was unprepared for it. “So you’re the demon Geo was talking about. The one that worked with that dying director?”

 

It was the casualness in his voice that made his stomach sink. It's like the death of his father figure had already been accepted. It felt like a punch in the gut. Just another twisted hard punch of reality reminding him what was happening, and he wanted so badly to punch back.

 

_‘Why is everyone bringing him up!?’_

This was the second time within an hour someone had mentioned Joey. Even though this time it wasn’t to intentionally piss him off, it still did. His hands were still clenched into fist, and he turned away unceremoniously before things got ugly.

Had realized the words he just said, the skeleton spoke out an apology. “Hold up, man. I didn’t mean to say it like that,”

But Bendy wasn’t willing to listen anymore. Hastily, he moved to finish a job that wasn’t his responsibility in the first place.

 

The other skeleton nudged his friend. “Forget it, dude, let’s just go play some slots. This game is over anyway.” Nodding, the two rose from their seats. They turned to the tie-wearer and the fedora-wearer, who were in the middle of arguing over paying for the damage. “Hey numbskulls, we’ll be at the machines when you’re done bickering.”

 

“What the matter fellows, afraid you’ll lose again?” The tie-wearer jeered at them.

“Get off your high horse, Jerry. You’re just gonna blow all your winnings on Rocket League anyway.” One of them shouted back as they leave the table.

The tie-wearer rushed to catch up. “I will not!” He objected, and the three bickered all the way to the slot machines.

 

Bendy was about to return to the bar when a bony hand laid on his shoulder. A grim, tired expression still clouded his face as he looked up at his fan.

“Listen, Bendy, I know I’m just some rando guy you just met but take my advice. Don’t listen to anything these shmucks say. Especially the stuff that prick was spewing about the Devil never losing.” The skeleton quickly looked around them, probably to make sure no other demons were listening before speaking his next sentence. “Rumor has it; a lucky fella beat the Devil in a game.”

 

“Really?” Bendy perked up. He hasn’t heard anything about that. Not even from the Deadlies and those guys gossiped about everything that went on, in and out of the casino.

The fedora-wearer nodded. “Yep, even the king of hell can’t escape karma.” He laughed. “Anyway, it really was a pleasure meeting you even for a short time. And don’t worry, I’ll explain to King Dice what happen and make sure my friend Jerry pays for the damage.”

 

That brought a little smile to his face. Hopefully, this meant the blockhead wouldn’t find a way to put the blame on him. “Thanks, um— Geo was it?”

 

“George, but yes, my friends do call me Geo. Speaking of friends,” He looked over at the slots. “I should go make sure they’re not strangling Jerry right now.”

 

“And I need to get back to the bar. I’m not even the janitor, just filling in for him.”

 

“Sloth, I’m assuming?” Geo asked.

 

Bendy rolled his eyes and nodded, not surprised by this assumption. Sloth does have a reputation.

 

“I understand, you’re not the only one who had to carry his weight. Just don’t let him push you around alright?” After a handshake and a wave goodbye, Geo went in one direction and Bendy went in the other.

“Again, it was nice meetin ya,” He heard the skeleton shout. When he looked back, Geo had already disappeared behind the glowing noise machines demanding money.

 

_‘So someone beat the Devil. That’s something to keep in mind.’_

 

Bendy made his way back to the bar and tossed the soaked cloth in the sink. Upon his return, he was rudely met by a shouting customer sitting at the far end of the counter. She didn't sound happy. “Hey buddy, what’s wrong with this guy? Is he dead or what?”

He didn’t need eye confirmation to know she was talking about Sloth. The Deadly demon was sound asleep on the floor, his body curled up in a fetal position, snoring as loud as possible.

 

“He’s on break,” Bendy stepped up on the mini stool he needed to see over the counter. With a pen and notepad in hand, he turned all his attention to the customer. “I’m the bartender, what can I…get you..???”

 

“Well, it’s about time!” The customer lowered the menu in her hand.

 

Bendy blinked and rubbed his eyes to make sure what he was seeing was right. In the two months of working at the casino, he’s seen plenty of undead creatures from ghost to skeletons, ghouls and demons, and a few of Inkwell’s anthropomorphic folks on rare occasions.

 

He has never seen a human inside the casino. However, if you don’t count her metallic teeth, her large dark eyes, and strange, long, pipe-like arms, then the girl sitting on the stool in front of him could very well be one. She definitely had the round face of a human.

Maybe a robot?

 She wore a long, old-fashioned, maroon that puffed out like a hoop skirt under her narrow waist. Her orange hair was cut just above her shoulders and ruffled around her face and under her ears. A big top hat with two big red buttons stood on her head. it complemented her outfit with the same maroon color. Covering her hands, she wore a pair of puffy white gloves that looked similar to his pair, but much bigger.

The strangest part about her wasn’t just her slender metallic arms, but the six oval red eyes that were placed at the intervals of her arms. Glowing, bright, under the bar’s neon light strips, they followed his every little moment like he was a moving target.

 

The girl looked young, but her getup was something out of the 1960’s mixed with robotic engineering. Not a style kids like these days.

 Before Bendy could think better of it, he asked her: “How old are you?”

 “Old enough to know something missin’ here,” The girl slapped the menu on the counter and pressed one of her puffy finger on its plastic cover. “Where’s the desserts on this thing?”

_‘Yep, young. Definitely young. Too young to be at this casino.’_

 “Kid, you do know where you are, right?”

 The girl raised her eyebrow at him. “Yeah, a casino. What of it?”

 “Not just any casino, The Devil’s Casino. As in, this place belongs to the Devil.” He said, trying to put it plain and simple but came out sounding like a smart ass. The girl took his words as an invitation to give him attitude.

“I ain't-a dimwit, ya palooka! I know that guy owns the joint. That’s why you imps are crawling all over the place.”

 

“Then you know the danger you’re putting yourself into.”

 

She flashed him a grin that shined her sharp, metallic teeth. “I hear a lot of suspicious things about these isles. It wouldn’t be in my nature if I didn’t see what all the hullabaloo was about.” And just as quick, her eyebrows furrowed into a scowl. “Now quit stallin’ and tell me where the sweets are at.”

 Bendy pressed his lips into a thin line. He could already tell she was going to be a problem. “We only serve desserts to VIP guests. And unless you want to lose your soul, I suggest you leave the place.”

His gaze wandered to the oval eyes attached to her arms. One blinked at him and sent a weird shiver down his spine.

_‘Maybe she is a robot?’_

If so then she shouldn’t have any worries, robots don’t have souls. And there is a well-known inventor that makes robots living in the town nearby so it wouldn't be so shocking to see them. Expect…she doesn’t look like any of Dr. Kahl’s works.

And her speech…

Bendy wasn’t so sure what he was talking too.

Once again, without thinking over his choice of words, he asked her bluntly: “You are human, right?”

The girl froze and stared at him for a long time, which felt like minutes. Then her fist slammed against the counter. “Of course I’m human, you moron!!!” In an instant, something sprang out from under her hat like a deranged coo-coo clock.

 

“SQUAWK! Hey boss! This guy given ya a hard time?”

 

“WHAT THE—” Bendy’s hands shot to the sky. Inches from his face was the tip of a very large, very sharp knife, and a little blue bird eagerly holds the hilt.

“Anyone who messes with Peacock,” The bird squawked. “Messes with the gang!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rocket League is considered a big sport in the world, like Football and Soccer (I told you, I'm going to try to connect a bunch of indie games in this mess of a fanfic.)


	3. Don't Let Them Know

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. Its been almost a year, But HERE IT IS!
> 
> To be honest I forgot about this fanfiction. I think at one point I was considering deleting it because I was afraid people would think it's cringy. >_< But I love indie games, and the idea of working a ton of them into the same world still fascinate me, so I'll continue this.

Bendy stepped back as the bird hopped from the girl’s head to her shoulder, then to the counter, all while holding the large knife out at him. He had a glint in his beady eyes that promised violence.

“Just give the word, boss, and I’ll take him down! He ain’t tough.”  

“Hang on a second,” Bendy took another step back and moved his hands down to his face where the knife was pointing. “I’m not looking for a fight,”

The bird made a stabbing motion with the knife and made the demon cringe back. “Can it, Imp! I wasn’t talkin’ to you!”

This day was not turning for the better.

At this point, Bendy was starting to regret not picking a fight with that prick of a dealer. He would have at least looked intimidating in front of the other demons. This, on the other hand, was just humiliating. The bird threatening him wasn’t just small, he was dressed up in doll size version of the girl’s weird get up. Same maroon top hat and dress, like some custom-made stuffed animal to look like it’s owner. A dangerous stuffed animal…with sharp teeth.

And Bendy, a demon, a frightening and terrible creature, was being held at knife point by this little bird. Jeez, how hopeless was he?! If all the casino’s staff weren’t laughing at him before, wait until they see this footage on the security cameras.

Out of the corner of his eye, Bendy could see Sloth still sleeping and for a moment thought about shouting at the lazy demon to wake him up from his endless nap. If he wakes up at all. Would he even care about what was happening if he did? Bendy liked to think he would, but likely not.

“Hold on, Avery. Does this guy’s funny face look familiar to ya?” The girl--Peacock?—rubbed her chin thoughtfully. “I swear I’ve seen him before.”

“Nah, looks like a chum to me!” The bird known as Avery, squawked.

Bendy gasped. This was his chance to save himself. “You have!” He blurted out. “I’m Bendy Drew, the demon. From the Bendy Show? I’m a TV star. Well, actually, I’m retired, but I was a big actor back in the day. Won lots of awards? Starred in a couple films?” He looked down at the bird still waving the glistening knife in his face. Bendy smiled sheepishly. “You wouldn’t stab a celebrity, would you?”

“Try me,” Squawked the bird. “I don’t care who you are. When boss gives the word I’ll—”

“Wait!” Exclaimed the girl. Both the bird and Bendy looked her way.

“What’s up, boss?”

Peacock snapped her puffy fingers. “Yeah, I remember you! You’re the fella from that old studio, Joey Drawn or somethin’ like that. The dancing guy. Fall back, Avery. He’s ok.”

“If you say so.” The bird chucked the knife over his little feather shoulder; Peacock easily caught it. The bird hopped back inside her hat but not before sticking his tongue out at the demon and snickered away.

Bendy exhaled the air he was holding. Relief. Now he just needs to watch what he says, and he just might get through this day without any casualties. “Thank you, and It’s Joey Drew. I work with the studio.” He sighed. “Or I use too.”

“Use to? Did you quit or somethin’?”

“Or something. It’s a long story,” That he didn’t want to go into detail. It's not any of her business anyway. “You wouldn’t want to hear it.”

Thankfully, the girl didn’t pressure him. “That’s too bad. I knew a lot of kids that watched your show. Damn annoyin’ it was,” She said with a little scowl. “They hogged the tv all the dang time to watch one of your episodes. Whenever I wanted to watch my programs, I had to tell them to beat it!”

“Oh. Sorry. Did they listen to you?”

Peacock shook her head. “Not always. When they didn’t listen, I gave them the _what for_ if you know what I mean.” He knew what she meant. “I’d ask what-a wash up tv star like yourself was doing in the Devil’s domain, if you weren’t, you know, a demon and all. You must feel right at home in this joint.”

Bendy rolled his eyes. “Pfft, as if! Only the worst of the worst would call this place home. Everyone is either a jerk—” He pointed his thumb to the sleeping demon on the floor. “Or lazy. I would rather be anywhere else then spend another day in this literal Hell-hole.”

“Reeaally…”

There was an awkward pause before Peacock slapped her hands on the counter and leaned way over to stare down the little demon with two of her, um…arm-eyes. Bendy stared back at their gaze. Troublemakers normally don’t intimidate him since he’s kinda one himself. He’d rather invite them to a brawl if fighting wasn’t permitted and she seems like the kind that would take up the invitation too. But there was something really off about this girl that chilled his blood and the sweat on his face had no problem showing that. Nervous, Bendy glanced over to Sloth’s sleeping form, and the urge to kick him awake was stronger than ever. Useless demon…

“Ya know, now that I think about it…I’ve seen your picture somewhere recently…” Bendy stiffened. Every oval red eye on Peacock’s pipe arms suddenly rose and zoomed in on him. Securitized him, like they were detecting him of lies for her to call him out on. Peacock lifted a suspicious eyebrow. “Aren’t you missing?”

“Excuse me?”

“I’ve seen missing poster with your funny face plastered on buildings.” She said.

The little demon blinked. Posters on buildings? That could only mean…

His eyes grew wide. “Where?” Dumb question. He knew exactly where, and he knew exactly who was putting up missing posters.

“I saw them in Sillyvision. That dull town back at the mainland.”  

 “That dull town is my home,” Bendy brought his hands up to his face, slightly shaking his head in disbelief. _‘Dang it, Boris. Why would you do this?’_

This is bad, very, very bad. They can’t be looking for him.

They can’t come here! The Devil, he’ll...

Not kill them. Not right away at least. Toy with them maybe. The king of Hell would definitely come up with something horrible to make them, and him, suffer for coming to his casino. This place was a death wish for mortals. “The studio’s staff is looking for me.” Bendy nearly growled. He can’t let the Devil get them.

“Why’s that? You said you quit,” Said Peacock. Not a moment later, her jaw slacked, then another wide smile broke across her lips. “Ooooh, I get ya. They’re huntin’ you! Sheesh, wouldn’t expect some crummy studio to hold a grudge against its employees. You must have done something really stupid.”

Bendy ignored the idle insult and shook his head. Pacing around in the small space behind the counter, he started to panic. “No, no, It’s not like that at all. They’re worried about me. Damn it; they’ve probably been looking for me for two months! I’m so stupid, why did I come here!”

“So, you ran away,” It wasn’t a question, but a statement of fact. The girl was close to hitting the nail on the head, and by the self-assured look on her face when he hesitated, she knew she was close to the truth.

“No! I mean, yes...but it’s not for reasons you may be thinking. The staff is a bunch of really good people.” He told her.

“Then why’d you run?” She asked, innocently enough.

Bendy passed an annoyed look to her. Nosy much. “Look. It's none of your business, ok? So stop pestering me and go gamble your soul or something.” He said and waved her off.

But Peacock didn’t leave.

She smirked at him again; Bendy was starting to dread that look.

“’Fraid you’re wrong, funny face.” She said, and before he could ask her what she meant, Peacock started explaining her plan with a playful tone of voice. “I’m going through that dull town again after I leave this joint. While I’m there, I cooouuld stop by the studio and maaaybe give them a little tip on your whereabouts. You understand what I’m sayin’?”

“What are you—” Bendy’s words ended as he pieced together the threat Peacock was making.

_‘if she tells them I’m on Inkwell Isles, they’ll come looking.’_

They’ll all come here.

Joey…

Boris..

Everyone…

_‘She’s threatening their lives’_

Now furious, he stormed up to the counter and got right in the girl’s grinning face, close enough to realize her dark eyes were actually empty eye sockets. Creepy. “ **Don’t. You. Dare. Tell them.** ”  He growled.

“And what if I do?” Peacock challenged, her shit-eating grin never leaving her face. “You can’t really stop me if you’re stuck here~”

**“You’d be endangering a lot of good people. They’ll die here!”**

She shrugged. “That ain’t my problem.”

Bendy about choked on her response. Was this brat serious right now? She’s really ok with sending people to their doom? Who the hell is this psycho!?

“You cocky little—” Bendy had to force himself to stop there and take control of his emotion before this turned into a mess. He wasn’t about to collide knuckles with her. She’s young, and he still holds up to his morals about fighting the opposite gender. Just barely. But something behind the bar was going to meet his seething fury if he didn’t calm the fuck down.

“SQUAWK! What was that!” Avery sprung out from under the top hat again, back to give him hell. “You got a problem with the boss!?”

“I got a problem with both of you!” Snapped Bendy.

That set off the bird. He reached underneath the hat to pull out another very large knife. “That’s it, pal, its go time! No one disrespects the boss.”

He leaped onto the counter with the sharp weapon in his tiny, bizarre, gloved hands. Bendy frantically looked around for a weapon and grabbed the nearest empty wine bottle with his left hand.

Avery snickered at him. “You ain’t tough; imp so don’t act like it. I’ll have this knife in your throat before you can blink.” He walked toward Bendy; knife pointed out at him. Peacock acted quickly to stop the bird, using her long pipe arm as a barricade that swept the small animal back toward her and away from the demon. Choice words steamed out of his beak as he was then promptly lifted by his tail to be put back under the hat. Bendy raked a torn glare over the girl, who continues to treat the whole situation like a fun game.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’d liked to see some good action around here,” She said and tipped her head forward. The shadows under her hat concealed half her face and left only her bright smile showing. “However, I think we can settle somethin’ here.”

“Settle something?” Instantly, Bendy’s mind flashed back to the day he met the Devil. Settling something means making a deal. Deals lead to nothing good. Bendy clenched his jaw.

_‘This can’t be good.’_

“Oh no. No, no, no, I am not _settling_ anything with you.”  

“Rather I blab to your studio buddies?” Peacock taunted. No! He definitely didn’t want that either.

 **“Do not tell them!”** He screeched at her. He was so mad; he was visibly shaking. Onlookers turned in their direction, curiosity only now getting to them, but like the scum, he works for none of them cared enough to help. Sloth didn’t even stir in his sleep. Peacock leaned in and dropped her voice to a sinister level.

“I won’t. IF, you bring me something I want,”

Bendy gapped at the girl. What the hell could she possibly want? Money? Explosives? More large knives to threaten him with? Fear spiked in Bendy as his imagination went wild. Poor demon just couldn’t get a break today. The universe seemed like it was out to get him, and it was only going to get worse when night falls, and all the Deadlies hear about this crazy encounter. It was only a matter of time before Devil hears about it too.

“Fine.” He gave in. “What do you want?”

Peacock lifted her smiling head. Cheerfully, she said, “Let’s talk more about those VIP-only desserts you were blabbing about~…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm currently still in school so getting chapters out won't be a weekly thing, unfortunately. I'll do my best though <3


	4. Don't Get Caught Sneaking Into The Kitchen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was suppose to be a second part to this chapter but I'm taking forever because school decided to slam me with three big assignments! And I hate it when I make people wait so...here ya go!
> 
> 11/26: holy frick, a whole year and I only now see the typo in the title XD *fixed*

Stealing a piece of cake was anything but a piece of cake in the Devil’s Casino. First, Bendy had to sneak into the kitchen. That was an immediate problem. The chef roamed in the kitchen, and rumor has it, you don’t want to get caught sneaking in there while he’s preparing food. Creatures go missing that way.

Greed, the yellow Deadly once told him all about the chef’s background when he was still new to the casino. According to the Deadly, the chef was hired to work for the Devil a year ago under unknown circumstances. Allegedly coming from a distant, mysterious place called the _Maw_ where grotesque monsters dine on large buffets. Then don’t ever go home again.

Greed joked that the chef enjoys eating demons going into his kitchen. It wouldn’t be shocking if it were true. Just another check mark on a list of reasons why you should never come to this casino. You wind up on someone’s menu.

Bendy remembered the advice the Deadly had given him, _“The ugly brute is too dumb to see or hear intruders. Move in the shadows and you’ll bypass him easy,”_ And he did just that. Shadows and dark places were already his friends, he just had to reacquaint himself.

The second thing Bendy had to do was find the desserts. Fortunately, he didn’t have to search for long. On a square wooden table close to the entrance, decorative pastries and cakes were waiting. So sweet he could smell the sugar wafting off them. Unfortunately, when he managed to sneak over to the dessert table without capture, he looked up and saw his next problem.

The kitchen was freaking huge! Not in size of the room, but huge as in everything from the tables to the ovens were way bigger than normal. At least twice the average demon’s height. Supposed they’d have to be, the chef was 1000 pounds and a 7-foot-tall monster. Amusingly, the food he had prepared was perfect size for the gamblers but looked far too small for his huge stomach.

Bendy let out a frustrated breath. He tried over and over to reach one of the cakes, but just couldn’t get to them. So close, yet so very high up. Damn it! If only he was taller…

The little demon watched for the chef out of the corner of his eye, listening and anticipating for the _‘chop chop chop’_ sound of the butcher knife to stop. The chef’s back was turned, busy preparing something for the oven. Something that made a horrible squishy sound and dripped juices on the floor. Shuddering, Bendy focused back on what he was doing. He tried jumping but because of his short stature, he wasn’t near close to grabbing the table’s edge. He needed something to stand on.

That was his third objective.

“I need a box, or a crate. But where—” Little frantic, the demon looked in every direction for something to boost him up. He stopped when he spotted a stack of large boxes under the butcher table. Next to the chef’s feet...

Just his luck.

Every sensible thought in his head told him to run now while he was undiscovered. There was no way he was going to get those boxes. One thought reminded him why he was doing this. _‘Don’t chicken out now. You’re doing this for your family.’_

Right, to keep Peacock from opening her big mouth to the staff. She could have asked for anything in the world, but sweets were the only thing on the girl’s mind. She even warned him to not give her anything with fruit, or she would announce his location to the studio with a giant megaphone and personally take them back to the casino like a tour guide. What a horrible brat. He should be grateful she didn’t ask for anything illegal. Nope, just a piece of cake…from the most dangerous kitchen in the world.

‘ _The chef eats little demons like you’_

Bendy ducked low and quietly hid under the dessert table while the chef chopped away at a slab of…something Bendy didn’t want to know. Curse Peacock’s soul if he becomes an appetizer, but he had to do this. If he could push those boxes, he should be able to use them as a boost to reach one cake and be out of there, lickity split. There was just one problem. _‘The chef will notice me. I need a distraction, but how?’_

Bendy looked around as he hid under the table, searching for anything at all that could help.

Nothing.

The little demon was stuck. For now. He could wait for the chef to finish and leave but who knew how long it would take. Peacock doesn’t seem like the patience type…

“Damn it,” Bendy swore, some of his frustration --at himself, at Peacock, at his current situation-- seeping into his voice. “Why do I always put myself into these horrible predicaments?” It’s no wonder Joey kept a sharp eye on him and held strict rules. Whenever the little demon does his own thing without supervision, he gets into trouble.

He didn’t listen to his friends, now’s he’s stuck on an island. He didn’t deny the Devil’s deal, now’s he’s a servant to Hell. He didn’t call security on Peacock…well, he couldn’t after she threaten his family but you get the idea. Bendy was, once again, in trouble and he has no one to blame but himself for this.

The chef grunted as he pushed the mystery meat aside, to lay out a new slab to cut. Bendy watched him closely. He kept shuddering at the sounds the meat made.

When the chef paused abruptly, he held his breath. When he turned around, Bendy saw the sickly features on his face. Disfigured and bulbous, the chef was truly a monster. His eyes were large and droopy, heavy wrinkles draped his face down to his neck. His white stock had grease stains.

Bendy’s eyes widen. He staggered when the chef looked across the kitchen floor in search of something.

_‘Did he hear me?’_

Oh stars, he hoped not. The little demon could hide but no way did he have the energy to run. Hell, he’d barely have the energy to struggle if he was thrown into a boiling pot. Demon stew for the ugly chef.

The monster lumbered around the kitchen glancing at the floor. Every heavy step shook the ground. Utensils clattered from the racks. Bendy remained stationary under the dessert table, still like a rock. He chanted _‘please don’t find me,’_ over and over in his head as if the words would make him invisible. Then the chef stopped at the table, his large feet inches from the demon’s face.

Bendy quickly covered his mouth to repress a small shriek of terror. He was right there. All the chef had to do was look under and he was a goner. Terrified, Bendy squeezed his eyes shut. _‘I’m so dead, I’m so dead, I’m so dead,’_

He could see the future now, his face on a late-night television premiere of: **The mystery of Bendy Drew’s Disappearance.** A case that will never be solved. Joey will die not knowing what happen to his little devil darlin’. Whether or not that’s a good thing was unsure to the demon. Bendy loved the man like a father. He would hate to think Joey’s final thoughts about him were filled with disappointment.

 There was a paused, which seemed to drag on. The chef stood motionless in front of the table. Under it, Bendy shook. He waited and waited for the chef’s big hands to come drag him out of hiding. For the heat of the oven to sear his skin. For a butcher knife to come down on his head. For his undoubtedly, terrible end.

But those moments never came.

What happened instead was something short of a miracle.

A shriek—alarmed and angry—erupted from the chef’s big mouth and like a predator on prey, he ran across the kitchen with the butcher knife in his hand. Something caught his attention. Whatever it was, it was saving Bendy’s life. The demon waited a few more seconds before scrambling out from under the table. He headed straight for the exit, sprinting as fast as he could. He was about to make it when something dropped from above and landed at his feet. He startled but then Bendy looked down and saw…

“C-cake?”

Perfectly packaged in tin foil and a plastic cover, sat a thick slice of Devil’s Food cake. Bendy looked up. A small unidentifiable figure stared down at him from the table, only for a moment. Then they turned away.

‘ _Who?—’_

The little demon shook his head and picked up the cake. No time for questions, he was still in danger. He thanked the stranger in silence and ran out of there without looking back. He didn’t know who that was but did hope they make it out the  _Nightmare_ of a kitchen in one piece.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to put a indie reference/cameo list here that were in this chapter but I'm curious to see if anyone knew this one. The last line should have given it away lol.


	5. Don't Let The Mortal Lose Her Soul

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So a terrible thing happen before i started this chapter. My darn laptop decided to stop charging and needs a new battery. Great, right!? Thankfully I have my Amazon fire and a writing app I can work with. This is my first time writing a chapter using a touch screen keyboard so sorry if there are any weird mistakes. This thing is super touch sensitive. Anyway, I plan to go over this chapter again on my phone to fix a few things after I get off work. 
> 
> Btw Im thinking about renaming this to 'The Soul Collectors' because it just has a better ring to it. Let me know what you think.

Bendy was annoyed.

"On man, this is good stuff. Not bad funny face. A ten out of ten in my book."

So, so very annoyed.

"What say you, Avery?"  
  
"SQUAWK! Coulda been somethin' better. Too much chocolate."

"Pfft, no such thing. You gotta be flippin' your hat. "

The demon won't even look in the direction of the girl and her crazy bird. He knew just looking at them would set him off. _‘Calm down. Breath.’_

“You know this place ain't half bad. We ought to vaca here more. As long as it has good treats.”

“Yeah, and demons we can blackmail!” Avery snickered with his owner.

Bendy set his jaw. Dammit, they got their stupid cake, can't they go away already? Under his breath he growled at the remarks they made as he tried to calm his violent mind. _'1..2..3..4..5..'_

“We shoulda thought of this when we visited that city in the mountains. If we had some dirt on the hot-headed bar owner, we could of got a free meal.”

“SQUAWK! Say slow down boss. Save a bite for Tommy ten-tons and Andy Anvil.”

_‘13..14--wait. Tommy what and Andy who?’_

“Yeah, don't forget about us, boss!”

Bendy opened his eyes and spun when he heard a loud pop. His mouth fell open at what he saw. “What the? Who are you guys?!” On the left and right of Peacock, an anvil and a giant weight stood. "We're with Peacock." The anvil said. He wore boxing gloves and basketball sneakers and his face looked like a shark. "Don't interupt her relaxation time unless your looking for a bruisin'.”

"Yeah, a bruisin'." The giant weight standing at her left agreed. Holy moly, they had muscles bigger than King Dice's head! Are they her bodyguards? She doesn't seem like the type of girl that would have them, but they definitively fit the job description. Tall and clearly built to kick ass, Bendy couldn't help gawk at the two.The giant weight didn't like that. He stared right back at the little demon with two white piercing eyes. “There's no problem. Right?”

Bendy had to shift his gaze elsewhere as he shook his head. "Nope, " he said promptly.

Peacock took another bite of the rich dessert. “Go easy Tommy, he's alright. He brought us this awesome cake! Not to mention he's also a missing tv star.”

The anvil who (through process of elimination) had to be Andy, sneered. “Oh yeaaah, I remember. We've seen your face on a couple posters a few towns back.”

“So I've been told.” Bendy turned to Peacock. “But you guys aren't going to tell anyone you saw me, right? That was the deal.” The others looked at her too, awaiting an answer.

Peacock simply smiled and winked. “A deals a deal. Don't worry, your little secret is save with us.” Bendy really hoped thats true. Its hard to tell if she was being honest, and its not like the demon could do anything to stop her from telling. He'll just have to trust her word. Bendy crossed his arms at his chest and with a tired breath said, “Thank you.”

“Theres just one thing I gotta ask ya.”

He clenched his teeth. Great. What does she want now? “And that would be...?” He tried not to sound irritated in front of her crew. But he was. After what she made him go through, he wanted nothing more than to get them out of his sight and never see them again.

Peacock's smile softened. “Why don't you leave this place if you hate it so much? There are much better places to hide."

Bendy hesitated to answer. “I can't leave.”

“You can't? Why ever the heck not?”

“Is it because your a demon?” Asked Tommy ten-tons. “Maybe they can't leave the casino.”

“SQUAWK! That doesn't make sense, ” Said Avery. “He's a missing TV star from another town. He had to had left before.”

Andy flexed his left arm to the ceiling, growling. “Maybe this casino is cursed! Once you enter you can never leave.”

“Whaaaaaaat? If thats the case, lets beat up the devil!”

Bendy shook his head, sighing. What a bunch of loonies. “Its not cursed. You guys are fine as long as you're not stupid.” He jumped as a large fist hit the counter. Looking up, Bendy saw both Tommy ten-tons and Andy staring him down.

“And who are you calling stupid?”

Sweat beaded Bendy's forehead. “Nobody! I'm not calling anyone stupid! I'm just saying!”

Peacock snorted. “Are you always this jumpy? Relax, you heard the guys. Don't give us trouble and there won't be trouble.” Won't be trouble, huh. A bit too late for that.The girl's gang was attracting more attention than the demon wanted. While they were talking, two guards patrolling the casino stopped to look at him, then the others for a second or two before turning away. No doubt they were more inclined to snitch to King Dice than actually do anything.

“Come on, tell us. If the casino isn't cursed then why can't you leave?” The girl glanced over at the guards before leaning in to whisper. “Blink twice if your being held against your will.”

Bendy almost blinked. Almost. “Look. My situation is a bit personal. I rather not explain it...its complicated.” Although he wondered if they would feel terrible for threatening his family if he did tell them. On one hand, making Peacock feel awful would be a form of payback. On the other, it would be risking the studio's lives. After all, this girl was unpredictable. If he told her the truth, she could change her mind about the whole deal.

Peacock shrugged, but her face said she was not satisfied with that answer. “Okay, I get it. I won't pester you.” She hopped off the stool and gestured with her hat that they were leaving. “Thanks again for the cake, funny face. You've got our respect.”

“Thanks. I guess.”

She turned to leave the bar for the slot machines with her crew following behind her.

Bendy stopped her to give a piece of advice. "Whatever you do, don't play craps.” It was the Devil's favorite game, and the one he wins most of his souls with. It was also rigged. Despite what he said earlier, he didn't really want her to lose her soul.

Peacock smirked. “I'm not gonna gamble my soul if that's what your worried about. And if the devil tries anything,” Her smile turned sinister. “We'll take care of him.” Without looking back, Peacock and her crew left and disappeared into a crowd of gamblers. Bendy wrinkled his brow, imagining the trouble they could get into. He didn't wish misfortune on the girl, no matter much of a brat she was. No mortal deserves this hell.

\---

An hour went by. Bendy was starting to get bored. He glance at the small clock hanging on the wall behind him and groaned. “Only four more hours to go.” Then he'll be off to bed and get to do it all over again tomorrow. And the next day...and the next...and the next...

Stars, he hated this place so much. Its been so long since he seen the outside world. Two months to be exact. It feels longer, though.

During the slow periods, he would often daydream of being outside again. In warm sunshine and cool air. Surrounded by people, not other demons.

He once asked the Devil why none of his demons were allowed outside. The Devil laughed at the absurdity. “Demons don't need any of that. Everything you need is right here.” They were in Hell during the conversation. The Devil had a proud smile as he showed him the underworld, thinking the smell of fire and sulfur were more than enough to convince Bendy this is where he belonged. It only made Bendy hate being here even more. He missed being outside. He missed everything about his previous life. And until the day his contract burns in Hell's fire, he daydreams to be back home.

It was a little past four when a commotion broke out from the other side of the casino and broke into the little demon's reverie. He stepped up on the stool, looking over the counter. Among a gathered crowd, Bendy spotted the Devil's long antelope horns and grimaced. “Oh, no.” The Devil's arrival could only mean one thing.

“Someones about to lose their soul.” Bendy looked down to see Sloth raising from the ground and let out a mighty yawn. As he stretched the stiffness out of his limbs, he moved next to the smaller demon to blearily watch the commotion from the bar.

“Welcome back to the living, sleeping beauty.” Bendy said. “Just in time too.”

“I'm just taking a break. I'm interested to see if the boss gets this one.”

“What do you mean?”

Sloth rubbed his baggy eyes. “Boss has been out of luck lately. He wins the games but the debtor always manages to get away. Its been some time since another mortal stepped into the casino, so I'm sure he's eager.”

‘Peacock’

The little demon wronged his hands together as he worried for the girl and her gang. Remembering what Geo the skeleton said, he turned to Sloth. “Has anyone ever won a game against the Devil?”

Sloth gave him a droll stare. “Nope. Mortals can run, but nobody can beat him in his own casino.”

Bendy lowered his head. He should have known it was just a silly rumor, a false tale to heighten his hopes. “Oh. Right,”

“Why do you ask?”

“Just curious.” Bendy lied. He looked up when the crowd gathered around the Devil made a ton of noise. They cheered and chanted his name as they followed him to the craps tables, praising their beloved king. The two demons behind the bar watched in silence.

\---

Thirty minutes later, another commotion ripped Bendy away from his thoughts. Glancing over at the Devil and his multitude of followers, he noticed something was happening. The Devil didn't look happy. He looked pretty damn pissed off. And the crowd wasn't sounding pleased either.

Sloth let out a long breath. “Oh boy. Here we go again.”

Bendy stared at the crowd, then at his coworker, confused, and again at the crowd, standing on his tiptoes to see over their heads. He caught sight of Peacock's cocky smile from the right side of the craps table, finding something hilarious despite her situation. Seeing her still here caught the little demon off guard. “Damn it, Peacock...” He freakin warned her about this. What the hell was this girl thinking? Coming in here with intentions of fighting the Devil? Shes gotta be out of her mind. A few loose screws in the head thats for sure.

While talking to the Devil, Peacock had her arms crossed at her chest and her crew standing at her sides. Whatever she was saying wasn't amusing the king of Hell at all. He said something back at her that was indistict but loud enough to sound like a growl. Peacock wasn't phased. Bendy got curious. He wanted know what they were talking about but a gut feeling told him leaving his post would be a really bad idea. And it was right.

Peacock said something back at the Devil before tipping her hat in the same manner she did before leaving the bar. Then she snapped her fingers and something big appeared between them. It was black and round and had a painted white ‘8’ on it to look like an eight ball. A burning fuse stuck out from the top. Wait...

A bomb!?

Bendy acted fast. Grabbing Sloth by the arm, he pulled him down with him as he dived for the floor.

“Don't! Stop!" Someone shouted. But it was too late. The bomb detonated and rattled the whole casino to its core. Cheering from the crowd turned into screams. The walls shook and lights flickered over their heads. Smoke quickly filled the air. Bendy tensed as an angry roar erupted from his boss. “STOP HER!” And like an angry mob, every demon that chanted his name shouted the same words. On his hands and knees, Bendy crawled to the small door that divined the bar and the casino and slowly looked out. He saw the guards charging through the smoke and debris, spears held tight in their claws, eyes aimed for the exit. Angry scowls plastered their scalely and scarred faces.

“Greed! Envy!” Bendy waved down two of them. A familiar yellow and a bright emerald pair of demons. Slim, colorful and small (but still a head taller than Bendy) the Deadlies were easy to spot. Greed ran up to him. “Hey, you guys alright?”

Bendy nodded. “I'm fine,”

The Deadly looked past him to Sloth's sprawled body on the floor. “What about him?” At first, Bendy thought he was hurt but after a double take, they all realized he was just asleep. Again. ‘Unbelieveable.’

“I guess he's ok too. Listen. Don't underestimate this girl, shes nuts. And her friends ain't a joke.”

Envy scoffed. “This must be your first time witnessing a runaway debtor. They all pull stunts like this. Thats why the boss prepared an ambush for this one.”

‘Yeah, but...’ He didn't want them to catch Peacock. She's mortal, and more importantly shes just a child. He also didn't want the Deadlies finding out about their little deal, knowing some of them would snitch to the Devil. Not expressing on either of those thoughts, Bendy glanced past the two demons looking for a glimpse of the girl and continued to fret. “Just…be careful.”

Envy looked at him odd. “What's with you? Did you forget that we're the Devil's left hand men? We got this.”

Greed cast a determined look over the casino's front doors. “She won't get away, we'll make sure of that. Stay here and uh…watch Sloth.” Bendy opened his mouth to tell them something else, but the Deadlies already ran back to join the chase. The little demon fretted more as he heard another explosion go off. A little distant this time. Damn it! There's nothing he can do to stop this. It was too late to change their minds and too late for Peacock to apologize. Not that she would.The Devil was hellbent on catching this girl, and by the sound of it, Peacock wasn't giving up.

By the end of the night, someone was going to lose this fight.

\---

The winner was clear when Bendy ran into Greed by the main entrance, three hours after the hunt was called off. Word of Peacock's escape spread quickly through the casino. The guards didn't stand a chance against her quick wits and rapid fire attacks, leaving a trail of destruction in her wake. And a black shiner on the Deadly's eye. Bendy couldn't help tease. “She won't get away, huh? I warned you,”

“Shut up,” Greed grumbled. They walked around the back of the build to a hidden door and then through a corridor that took them to their room. Greed held an ice pack over his eye.

“Does it hurt?”

“Course it does. Idiot.” The Deadly's face darken with shame. “The damn brat tossed a sack over my head and her friends wailed on me.”

Bendy stifled a laugh. He shouldnt laugh but he couldn't help it. It was just too funny imagining one of the Devil's best demons getting his ass kick by a child. Like a violent cartoon.

“Glad you find it hilarious because the boss is pissed. He wants to speak with all of us tomorrow when he calmed down.”

That made him stop laughing and clear his throat. “About what?”

“The girl, thats for sure. Not sure what he wants us to do though. Not like we can leave the Casino. He forbids that.” The Deadly let out a slow breath before quietly looking up at the framed pictures hanging on the walls. They were old black and white photos of the Casino in its primal years. Few of them had shots of the Devil and a young King Dice grinning proudly side by side. Not much has changed in the establishment as far as decor. “Do you ever miss being out in the world?” Bendy froze at the question. Greed glanced over at him and Bendy was surprise to see the expression on his face. Stoic and calm, the Deadly was serious.

“All the time. I think about being back home every day too.”

“I see,” Greed said, looking back at the pictures and pondering to himself. “Sometimes I wonder what it would be like outside. Would it be too cold for me? Too sunny? Would I burn in the daylight like a vampire? Or freeze at night. Are some places better than others to explore? And the people. Would they accept me like they did you? So many things to wonder. It's a curiosity that eats at me some nights.”

Bendy stared at Greed, his face stricken. Where in the world was all this coming from? The Deadly never care about the outside world before. Honestly he thought he wasn't capable of feeling anything other than his name sake. This wasn't like the yellow Deadly at all. “Greed?” Bendy's voice was concerning.

“Sorry. Ignore me.” Greed shook his head vigorously as if he were trying to shake off sleep. “My brain is still rattled from the beat up.”

“A good nights rest will help with that. We got to get up early if the Devil wants to speak with us...”

“Yeah” Greed opened the door to their room and they stepped inside. The other Deadlies were already in, playing poker on a circlar couch in the middle of the room. They looked up with amused faces and stifled their snickering.

 _‘Great_ ’ Bendy thought. _‘Here comes the mockery.’_

But thats how the Deadlies were. They were not always a team. Sometimes the dynamic changes depending on what happens, turning them against each other. The others must have saw Bendy's humiliation on the security cameras and because Greed had a black eye, the two were currently the biggest targets. Bendy felt his face heat up. Wrath and Pride and all the others were staring at them, silently judging. Like a rainbow, each of the deadly demons represented a different color much like their sin. Bendy looked at each of them with big unblinking eyes. Then he quietly stalked past them to his bed. The red Deadly, Wrath broke the silent.

“Bout fucking time you two showed up.” He said.

“Aww did you miss us, Wrath? I'm touched.” Greed said, walking into the large dome room that was really hexagonal than round.

“As if. I just want to know what the hell happened that calls for all of us to the meeting tomorrow. From what I understand, you, Envy, Sloth and Drew's dog over there were the ones who screwed up.”

“Hey!” Envy cried.

Sloth didnt react.

Bendy winced at the insult toward him, his hand curled into a fist. On his small bed, he looked up at the ceiling, trying to ignore the others in the room.

Greed narrowed his gaze at Wrath. “And where were you?! I didn't see you in the casino trying to stop the mortal.”

Wrath growled at the question, even though he didn't answer it. “I'm not the one who failed to catch her. You four were there, you're the ones who screwed up. Not the rest of us.”

“Yeah but apparently we're a ‘team’ so boss wants all of us. Get over it.”

But Wrath wasn't done. Not in the slightest. He argued and shouted with Greed for awhile, getting the others involved in their fight the more he got aggressive. Bendy turned so his back was facing all of them and concentrated on his own random thoughts.

He thought about the day he met the Devil and about their deal. He thought of Peacock, wondering where she was now and if she was just as injured as Greed was. For a short moment, he even thought about the silhouette stranger that helped him in the kitchen. Were they ok? Then as he slowly dozed off to sleep, the little demon thought of home. One day, he will find a way back.

\---

Meanwhile on Isle One, two kids get ready to sneak out of their house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wrath=red  
> Gluttony=orange  
> Greed=yellow  
> Envy=green  
> Sloth=cyan  
> Lust=blue  
> Pride=purple
> 
> The Deadlies are a rainbow of sin!


	6. Don't Get Drunk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy, the longest chapter I've ever written, but here it is. For now on my chapters are going to be about this long because I tend to drag stories out longer than necessary. Plus I won't feel like I need to rush to get to the main plot of the story.

Yes Mugman walked through the darkness of his house. He wasn't sure why, but he had a bad feeling about tonight. It wouldn't be the first time he and his brother snuck out of the house in the middle of the night. They've done it plenty of times before. So many times, in fact, they've mastered ever corner of hiding evidence from their guardian, Elder Kettle.They had the alarms on their watches set to two hours before the old man wakes up which gives them plenty of time to get home, wash up and go to bed. There was a tree by the house where they like to hide their shoes if they were muddy, so they didn't leave footprints on the floor. Their friends from the other isles promised to never say a word either, if any of them were confronted. Their tracks were covered, so why was he having this strange feeling? Maybe he was getting cold feet.

Mugman peeked into the doorway of their living room, blinking to adjust his eyes to the dark. The moon was full and high enough to give the room a sliver glow. On the couch, he could make out the familiar shape of Elder Kettle. Sound asleep. Mugman backed away and tip-toed back up the stairs. “So what's up,” Cuphead whispered to his brother as he entered their room. He was just finishing packing up a small backpack with two flashlights and their allowance money to take with them. “Is Kettle asleep?” Mugman shook his head and looked over his shoulder.

“Whats wrong?”

Mugman hesitated. His hands fidgeted with his gloves, scratching at the fabric, and he looked at the floor. “I don't know. Maybe I'm a little nervous. Its been some time since we saw our friends.” The look on his older brother's face told him he didn't believe any of that.

“Are you sure its not because Miss Hilda Berg is going to be at the party? I know you like her.” He teased

“I do not! Thats a lie!”

“Your right, it is. You have a crush on Miss Cala Maria.”

Mugman's cheeks flushed bright pomegranate red. Cuphead laughed.

Mugman pouted and folding his arms. “S-shut up and hurry up Cups, before Kettle wakes up and we get in trouble.”

“Yeah, yeah, I just need to grab a few things from the fridge.” The older porcelain finished tying his shoe laces after a firm tug at the knot and put both arms through the straps of the backpack. They padded down the stairs, one step at a time. In the kitchen, Cuphead grabbed a couple snacks from the fridge while Mugman checked on Elder Kettle again from the living room door frame. The old man snored like a saw through lumber. His right arm and leg dangled off the couch in a position that had to be a little uncomfortable for his fragile bones but had to better then his old lumpy mattress. As the elder often complains, his bed was decades older than he was. He started sleeping on the couch about four weeks ago and currently poses as an obstacles for the brothers.

A loud and sudden thump made Mugman jump and turn around. Cuphead looked like a deer caught in the headlights, watching a water bottle he had just dropped roll across the floor. When it stopped, he smiled sheepishly. “Oops.”

Mugman let out an aggravated breath. “Careful Cuphead, or-” He whispered but he never got to finish because at that moment, Elder Kettle stirred in his sleep. The boys panicked. Cuphead retreated from the kitchen, Mugman followed behind him. They hid on the staircase, thinking that their caretaker would wake up any second now to ruin their evening plans.

When Mugman and his brother were little kids, they did a lot of rotten things the set a disapproving frown on Kettle's wrinkled face. They'd, for example, would pull almost weekly pranks on the neighborhood like shooting windows with pebble loaded slingshots, kicking trash cans, ding-dong ditch and other childish games. When something broke, they blamed it on a made up burglar to sound like they were some local heroes. Kettle and the neighbors never bought it and the bros were put in more time-outs than they could count on their fingers. Little did anyone know that several years later, they did become true heroes. Only difference was their villain was the Devil and not some imaginary theif. But thats a story to be told in a later chapter.

After the Devil ordeal, the boys vowed to Kettle to behave more. Boy they throw that promise out the window. It didn't last longer than a week, for it only took one spontaneous idea to pull the brothers back into mischief. That idea led to another, and another after that. Now they leave the house in the dead of night on a weekly basis under Kettle's nose.

“Maybe he won't be mad if we tell him the truth.” Mugman whispered. “Or maybe he'll be furious and ground us forever.” Cuphead said. They would never forget that lecture. Elder Kettle had a gentle heart but he knew how to raise his voice. The brothers didn't move from the staircase until they heard another floor-shaking snore from their elder. Mugman passed a look to Cuphead who was thinking the same thing he was thinking. ‘Leave now.’ Then, as if Hell's fire was on their back, they quickly grabbed their backpack from the kitchen and darted out the back door.

“That was close,” Mugman said once they were far from the house. They ran past The Root Pack's garden and Cagney's flower patch, heading straight for the bridge to isle two.

“Yeah but don't think about it now.” Said Cuphead, grinning. “Its time to party!”

\---  
As the boys approached The Stageplay Theatre, there were guests everywhere. Bright searchlights lit up the night as they swept the sky. Large white, silver and blue balloons decorated the front and pathway, along with paper streamers mirroring the same colors draped from the front sign and connected to the theatre walls.They could tell the building was recently renovated and painted over with a royal teal color --one of Sally's favorite-- that covered the decade-old blemishes.

Cuphead let out a low whistle as they looked around. “Wow. Everything looks pretty fancy.”

Mugman didn't comment, but he noticed the people walking inside were wearing ball gowns and expensive suits. He cupped his mouth, whispering to his brother. “Cups? Did the invitations mention a dress code?”

“…I don't think so...” Cuphead said, uncertain.

The boys looked down at their black long sleeves and blue and red kid shorts. Their brown worn shoes and dirt stained gloves. Then compared themselves to a group of gentlemen by the ticket booth. All in black tuxedos, the men held up fancy drinks with small umbrellas. They had straight postures, clean and cut hair that were slick back with way to much gel and flashed perfect teeth when they simultaneously laughed. A young pretty girl hung onto the arm of the tallest tuxedo like a smitten cat, her ivory dress fell to her ankles. Yeah, the brothers were really out of place. Mugman shifted uncomfortably. “Oh man. I think we messed up, Cups. This isnt a 'party' party, its one of those dress up parties. A soiree.”

“Why in the world would Sally invite us to this? Who are all these people?” Cuphead asked.

“Good friends of Mr. and Mrs. Stageplay I'm assuming.”

“They all look so painfully cheerful. Like they might sneeze money out their noses any second.”

Mugman chuckled. “So where are our friends?”

Cuphead squinted to see through the tinted windows. “Come on, Mugs, lets go inside and find out.”

They went into the lobby, with a ceiling of fairy lights like stars gleamed. A large crystal chandelier hung from a chain in the center of the room. There were buffets of exotic foods lined up the walls. It was a stunning display that the boys gawked for a moment. They examined the party that wasn't at all what they expected as they sauntered awkwardly around. Just like the people outside, everyone lounging in the lobby were dressed up like their outfits were stitched from money. No one danced, or showed any interest to, no one sat down and drank anything past a martini glass. And the music…who picks Classical over Swing!? Boooring! For a second, Cuphead thought about suggesting ditch the place to visit the Mausoleum. They didn't have to worry about getting home yet.The night was still young, plenty of time to do something fun. And surely walloping a few ghost would be much more entertaining then this snoresville. Cuphead open his mouth to tell Mugman all of this, when Sally apparoched them wearing what had to be a very expensive outfit. Dressed in a long white gown, she looked like a movie star, with diamonds hanging from her ear lobes and her neck, and wore gold bangles on her wrist.

“Darlings! You made it!” Grinning, Sally squeezed the brothers into a hug, then half-smiled when she saw their clothes. “and you're…underdressed.”

Mugman pointed at his brother. “Cuphead messed up, he didn't read the whole invitation,”

“Hey!” Cuphead said indignantly.

Mugman ignored him. “Then he threw them away when we were cleaning our room.”

“It was an accident!”

“Thankfully, I have an incredible memory,” Mugman puffed out his chest, boasting. “And remembered the time and day we were supposed to show up.”

Cuphead scoffed. “Yet, you didn't remember it had a dress code?”

Sally laughed. “Well I'm happy to see you made it, none the less.”

“Thanks Sally, but I think we're gonna leave soon. This ain't our scene.” Cuphead said, indicating the party and the snobbish partygoers with the wave of his hand.

Sally crossed her arms, glaring around. “These are my husband's friends. Don't feel intimidated by them,” There was disdain in the way she spoke, as if despite being upper-class, she herself wasn't thrill with the fancy gathering. “They can talk the talk, but I can bet you none of these suits know the difference between an emmy and an oscar.” Sally laughed. The boys laughed with her out of curtesy. Neither of them knew what the hell an emmy was or who Oscar is. “I told him this wouldn't sit well with any of my friends, so we came up with a plan. Follow me, boys.”

With a turn, she started out of the lobby. The boys tagged behind her. Sally led them through the main hallway that directs guest to the auditorium with a sign and a flashing arrow. Sally took a sharp right at the fork in the path, opposing the sign, and went down another hall. Rounding a second corner, they passed a few doors with names painted on them then turned down another hall again at the third corner. Cuphead whispered to Mugman. “Hey Mugs, is it just me or does this place look a lot bigger on the inside? Like waaaay bigger.”

Mugman shrugged. “Magic?”

“Not magic. Just well-paid architects,” Sally voiced. “We own the theatre, Darlings, but my husband and I share the spotlight. We had many talented actors on the isles that we offered them their own dressing rooms. To make them feel special.”

Cuphead scratched the back of his head. “Then how come we never met any of them?”

Sally looked over her shoulder with a tight-lip grin on her face. “Like I said, we had many talented actors. Most of them moved on to bigger, better roles off these tiny islands and became very successful. Five star actors, gorgeous top rated singers, why some of them already have their second award...” Sally covered her mouth as a bubble of giggles suddenly escaped her like a giddy teenager. “And very soon darlings, you'll see my name rise to the top!” Mugman passed a weird look to Cuphead. Cuphead shrugged back.

“What do you mean, Mrs. Stageplay?”

Sally stopped abruptly. She spun around to look down at the boys, still smiling. “Why, I'm talking about leaving Inkwell Isles.”

“Leaving!?” The brothers shared a look of shock and confusion. What does she mean she leaving!? Her smile slightly faltered. “Oh my...you really didn't read the invitations.” The brothers shook their heads. Sighing, Sally sternly put her hands on her hips. “Yes. Well. My husband and I are leaving Inkwell tomorrow afternoon.”

“What?!” Cried Cuphead. Mugman only gasped. Sally nodded her head, confirming everything she was saying. “This is what the party is about. We wanted to say goodbye to our good friends and neighbors before we depart.”

“But, why?” Asked Mugman. His eyes were large and sad. “Don't you like it here?”

Sally spoke warmly reassuring. “Of course I do, this is my home. But like all my actors, I was offered a golden opportunity. A part in a movie, you see, written by the one and only The Conductor! He's a big name director with many outstanding awards.” The brother dropped their eyes to the floor with heavy hearts. Shes right, that is a big opportunity for the theatre actress. But still...“Well, we're going to miss you.” Cuphead said, speaking for both of them.

The actress ceased to smile with joy, but when she knelt down to their height she smiled empathically. “And I, you. Don't ever think I'll forget the kindness you did for me two years ago,” They looked up at her and she put her arms around for another hug. Then Sally stood up, turned around and continued walking. “Now enough of the sad talk. You came here for a party.” They stopped at a door with a sign reading 'Invites only' at the end of the hall. A woman in a blue uniform was standing in front of it, her blonde hair pinned up into a cute bun. She bowed her head at Sally and the boys then stepped aside to let them through. Behind the door, loud, swinging music could be heard. The brothers twin expressions of excitement made the actress chuckle. She opened the door. “Have fun.”

Looking inside was like looking into another world. It was a sizable room, with people in casual dancing to ‘Rock It For Me’ playing from the corner speakers. Twisting, arms thrown out, feet kicking in rhythm to the song like they didn't have any cares in the world other than to dance. Among the crowd, the brothers noticed a few familiar faces. There was Hilda twirling with a boy they've seen in town frequently, but never caught his name. Baroness was next to them swaying to the beat of the song in her candy dress. Far in one corner of the room Captain Brineybeard was drinking with Werner Werman and a few scruffy men at a round table. Hardy laughter reddened their faces as they raised their bottles and clinked them together. These were all good friends of the Stageplays, and good friends of the brothers too. “We sometimes have afterparties in here.”

Cuphead beamed. “Now this is a party!” He said before he and Mugman ran inside. Sally shouted after them, “Don't cause trouble now! I'll be back after I find my husband and let him know you're here,” But they didn't seem to hear her as they join the lively crowd on the dance floor. Sally headed back to the lobby.

When she saw her husband's friends, still doing nothing interesting, she couldn't hold back from sighing irritably. Seriously, she didn't understand what her husband saw in these boring people. Funny how they could be so different in the things they like and in the friends they make, and still be the perfect pair on stage. More than that, a perfect couple. Its true what they say, opposites attract. And their love story was like Romeo and Juliet...minus family quarrels…and death. In spite of their differences, they make their love work and the actress was happy to have someone to support her in what will be their new life outside of Inkwell.

Sally picked her way through the lobby, looking for her loving husband in the crowd. From behind, she heard a group of men talking.

“They say he only has a few months to live. Tragic.”

“So what will happen to the studio then?”

“They may have to shut it down. Joey's dying and Bendy is still missing.”

She stopped. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw one of the men shake his head.

“Not unless he sells it. Imagine how much its worth.”

“Please, Micheal, no one wants an old studio built in the 1960's.”

One of the younger men interjected. “Someone will, to renovate it then sell it again. I hear it has an underground section so it has to be bigger than it looks.”

“You really think stubborn Joey Drew is going to sell it?“ The man doing the most talking scoffed. “Unless Bendy shows up, if he's still alive, Drew Studios is as good as over.”

“Oh,” Sally bit her nail, remembering the day she received a call from the missing demon himself. As far as she knows, nobody outside Hell knows of his whereabouts except her. She kept it a secret as promised, but by the sound of things, Drew Studios was not doing well without Bendy. A wave of guilt washed over Sally. She reminded herself that Bendy tried to get her to go back to the casino, then she reminded herself that the Devil commanded him and its not really Bendy's fault. She didn't know the dancing demon that well, not as much as most celebrities, but she knew he had a good heart. For a demon. Who doesn't deserves whatever Hell the Devil was putting him though.

“Excuse me,” The men turned. Sally walked up to them, putting on the same fake smile they all expressed. “I couldn't help overhear. You are talking about Bendy Drew, correct?”

The man doing the most talking arched his brow. “The very one, milady! You have to have heard, he's been missing for some time now.”

“I have, and thats why I'm curious. What will happen to Drew Studios without him?” Sally asked

“Well, it could go out of business. Joey is on his death bed without someone to take over the studio.”

“But I thought that was all taken care of. It was in the news, Joey Drew picked his colleague and long time friend to take his place.”

The man looked at his friends. Then at Sally, a little hesitant. He leaned in, speaking quietly. “My cousin works in the studio. He told me it was supposed to be a surprise but the press have been all over them since Joey's sickness came out. They lied. He wasn't going to give the studio to Henry Stein. Mr. Stein doesn't even work there. Joey was going to hand the reins over to Bendy.”

Sally's stomach knotted. “What?”

“Its true. Joey wanted to tell Bendy when he came back from his vacation, but he never came back. No one knows what happen to him. After a strange phone call he just…disappeared. At this point the staff is so desperate, they're hoping for a ransom note.”

“That's…awful.”

“It gets worse. My cousin said many of the employees have already left. They've given up. Joey won't give the rights to the studio to anyone else, so without Bendy, Drew Studios will go out of business.”

Guilt. So much guilt. It made her sick as well as angry to hear all of this happening because of one little demon. Because she kept her promise to the demon. Sally turned away from the men.

Walking past a few more guests, she finally saw her husband. Dressed up like all of his friends, he was standing by the buffet in a dark grey suit over a white button up shirt. He grinned as she approached until he noticed her fretting. “Whatever is ths matter, sweetheart? Aren't you having fun?” Sally didn't know what to tell him, so she ignored the questions. “I wanted to inform you that the cupbros are here. I already warned the others beforehand to not give them any alcohol beverages. Especially Cuphead. Do tell your friends the same, just in case.”

Mr. Stageplay looked puzzled. “Oh, alright--”

“Also a light in the hallway is flickering. Have the janitor look at it before we leave tomorrow.”

“O-ok. I'll let him know--”

“And when Andre comes by tomorrow, make sure to run through everything with him again. I expect this place to be run by a professional while were gone. Not an idiot.“ Mr. Stageplay opened his mouth to speak. Sally interrupted him, her words coming out faster. Visibly, she was getting more upset. Her husband clammed up immediately. ”I don't want him thinking just because we won't be here means we can't fire him. Because I will fire him! If anything happens to this theatre, if he does anything I don't approve of, I will come back here and kick him out with my own heel! Let him know that. The last thing I need to worry about is our pride and joy going out of business because of an idiot.” When she finished there was a long silence. Mr. Stageplay reached a hand out to his wife. “Sally is something bothering you?”

Sally whirled on him. “Yes! Olives! We are out of olives!” Mr. Stageplay took a step back. He glanced over at his friends. Everyone was looking at them with silence interest. Heat stung Sally's cheek as they stared, embarrassed. She storms off.

“Sally!” Her husbands called after her. “Where are you going?”

“I need to make a phone call.” She shouted without so much as looking back at her husband and the crowd of onlookers. The truth has to come out.

\---

Cuphead smiled as he danced with a young, pretty girl he met on the dance floor. She was taller than him by several inches, wearing a blue dress and white stilettos that made her moment a little awkward but not too much to be out of beat to the music. And because he was shorter, she had to lean a little when they hooked gloves together, though she didn't seem to mind. There was a moment when she stumbled in her shoes, after Cuphead tried to twirl her around like an ice dancer. She fell right down on her bottom. Cuphead gabbled out an apology, and luckily the girl laughed it off. He helped her up and they went back to dance as if it never happened, all through the song. When it was over, she planted a kiss on his forehead and split ways.

Cuphead left the dance floor giddy with joy. He hadn't seen his brother in some time and wanted to not only check on him, but to also brag about the lipstick mark on his face. Maybe tease him about his crush on Cala Maria too. He looked everywhere for his brother, called out his name a few times, trying his best to be heard over the music but realized it was pointless. The music was too loud. He could barely hear his own voice. No way Mugman was going to hear him.

Suddenly, pass the music and noise, the small cup did hear a voice. He knew it right away, it was the bellowing voice of Brineybread. Something was going down that had the captain red in the face and talking like a mad man. The men around him, Werner included, looked disinterested in what he was saying.

“I'm telling you, aye saw it. He was there and then in the blink of an eye, he was gone. It ain't a trick of the water, I'm tellin' you.”

“What are you going on about Brineybread?” Cuphead asked as he approached them.

Brineybeard slammed his bottle on the table. “I'm talkin' about a ghost, lad. A ghost on Inkwell isles and aye saw him.”

“Uh, what?”

“Its true. I was checking me sails on me ship when I notice an unusual man on the dock. I'd say in his mid-forties, hair as red as the red sea. He was standing there one moment and disappeared the next. Like a ghost.”

Cuphead blinked, unsure of how to respond. No duh, ghosts exist. Everyone knows about the Haunted Train and the dead that hangs around the Devil's casino. Its no secret. The captain's nuts to think this was something new, that or had one too many drinks tonight. “Are you sure it wasn't the Mausoleum ghosts messing with you? We all know about ghosts, Briney.”

“Aye, but this was no regular ghost. This one was different, he didn't look like he belonged and acted real mysterious.”

“Uh huh, sounds like the booze talking. Maybe you should cut back a little, bud.”

“Zat's vat ve been telling him,” Werner said. “He von't lisden.”

Brineybread opened his mouth to protest when he realized no one was going to listen to him. He grumbled and took another swig from his bottle. Turning to Cuphead, he narrowed his good eye at the young porcelain. “What do you know about drinkin, lad? You've never touched the Devil's drink in your life.”

Cuphead crossed his arms, smirking at the captain. “No, but I fought through the Devil's casino, fought the Devil's lackey and beat the Devil himself without losing my soul.” Besides omitting the part of how he ended up in that situation, it was all true. Cuphead never lets anyone who challenges him forget that. “I can take on anything with the Devil's name on it.”

Brinybeard laughed. “Cocky, aren't we? Have a seat and prove it.” With one meaty hand he pulled out the table's only empty chair for Cuphead to sit. If there was one thing the captain enjoyed more than drinking, it was a challenge that involved drinking.

“Hold on. Ve promised Zally,” Werner started to protest. Brineybeard waved him off dismissively.

“A few shots won't hurt anyone. What do you say Cuphead?”

Cuphead sat with them. “Well, I'm actually looking for Mugman,” he said tentatively, turning in the chair to look again for his blue brother. Still no sight of him. Not on the dance floor, not at the tables, he didnt see Mugman anywhere. Cuphead grew worried. Where the heck could his brother be?

“I'm sure the lad's fine having a little fun somewhere,” Brineybeard poured a shot of rum into new glass and slid it to the young cup. “Here, have a taste. Unless you're chicken.”

Cuphead snapped his attention back to Brinybread. The captain was spewing fighting words that he couldn't ignore. He scowled “Who are you calling a chicken?” He said and snatched up the glass to prove the pirate wrong. The potent smell hit his nose before he lifted it to his face. There was a moment's hesitation, then closing his eyes, he knocked back the drink. It tasted oddly sweet but left a very bitter after taste, like cough syrup. A shiver passed through Cuphead's body. It was the worst thing he ever drank.

Everyone round the table laughed. “Hahahaha, look at his face! Classic first-timer.”

“Come on kid, the drink ain't even that strong.”

“Perhaps you should stick to orange juice and milk.”

“Too much for ya, Cuphead?” Brineybeard chaffed.

Cuphead wiped his face with his shirt sleeve and quipped back. “I say not enough. Give me another.” Brineybeard poured more rum into the glass. His good eye glared at the cup. Cuphead pinched his nose this time as he downed the shot. It made it harder to swallow but at least the drink didnt taste so bad. When he finished, he slammed the empty glass down on the table in victory. “Got anything else?”

Werner slapped his forehead. This was not going to end well for the kid, or for any of them, if Sally finds out. The rat knew Cuphead was a stubborn youth, easily manipulated by antics. Brineybeard himself was pretty big-headed. This wouldn't be the first time he pushed someone to play his stupid drinking games. You would think as an adult, Brineybeard would rethink what he was doing. Nah.The captain beckoned his friends for a different bottle they had stashed in a barrel. “I'll tell you what. If you can take ten shots of this, I'll give you all the coins in me pockets.”

3…4…5 shots later, Cuphead started to cough. His throat felt like it was on literal fire. It was a hell of a drink that did not sit well in his stomach, whatever they gave him. It wasn't rum. “Is that...is that all you have?” Grunted Cuphead, smiling that twisted smile when he conceals pain. For the sake of his reputation, he couldn't let Brineybeard win.

6…7…8 shots in, Cuphead started feeling strange. The shots got easier to knock back, and the more he drank, the more his head spun. It felt like it was on a wild rollercoaster and he wanted to vomit. With a sneer on his lips, Brineybeard asked him if he gives up. Cuphead held his glass out defiantly. Perhaps it was because he was used to the taste, or perhaps he wasn't thinking straight, at all, but the young cup wanted more. “Not even close.”

9…10…, At first Cuphead wondered why the world was tilted, but then he realized it wasn't tilted at all and his head was just on the table. His throat hurt and his face felt hot. Everything felt uncoordinated and weird, like his body won't listen to him and move his arms the way he wanted them too. Instead of grabbing the glass cup, his heavy hand knocked it over. When he reached for it again, it slipped from his fingers and rolled right off the table. Cuphead needed a moment to close his eyes. So he did, and listened very distantly to the voices around him. Someone was arguing with Brineybeard. By the sound of the thick accent, it had to be Werner.

“You kaff him Pinstripe? Are you mad?”

“Don't tell me you believe the silly superstition? I drink the stuff all the time, nothing happens.”

“Zat drink has killed people, you stupid pirate!”

“Don't be so dramatic. A little alcohol ain't going to hurt the lad. It'll toughen him up is what it'll do.”

Werner hissed. “Tell zat to Zally. Arh! Sche'll kick us out for zure, like you kot us kicked out of zee bar for your schenanikans.”

“Aye told you for the hundredth time, that wasn't my fault! Besides, he's still breathing, ain't he? It was only ten shots.”

“Zat's ten schots too many! You forget he's only zirdeen.”

“Fifteen,” Cuphead chimed in, with his head still flat on the table.

A moment's silence fell between the men as they looked at the cup with pity. Werner shook his head, sighing. “Look at 'im, he'z drunk. Zally iz not going to like thiz one bit.”

The scuffy pirate scratched at his beard, reassessing the situation. “Arrr, perhaps your right.“

“Of courze I'm right. Your lucky Mugman izzn't here to zee him like zis.”

“Mugs,” Cuphead opened his eyes, saw the pirate and rat, turned away from them as he forced himself to stand up. “I has to find, Mugs.” He swayed some as he tried to find his balance. A task that was much harder to do when everything wobbled like the sea. Werner jerk out of his chair to move behind the young porcelain, catching him by the arms just when hes about to loose his footing. Cuphead shoved the rat away unceremoniously. “I don't need your help.” He almost stumbled again walking away from the men.

“Cuphead,” Werner shouted.

“Lad, where are ye going?” There was a edge of panic in Brinybread's voice.

“I have to find Mugs.” Cuphead smiled to himself. “I have to tell him I'm better.” The men shared a look of absolute horror watching the youth stagger his way onto the dance floor.

The music changed. Instead of swing, a jazz singer began to sing her lullaby of love, and before Cuphead could get it through his drunk brain on what was happening, couples started slow dancing around him. ‘Go to the exit.’ Cuphead's body complied but not in the direction he wanted it to go. He walked like a newborn lamb walking for the first time, unstable and clumsy. Every paces seemed to get him nowhere or farther from his goal, and as he bumped into pant legs and gowns trying to leave, little 'sorrys' slurred from his mouth. Couples still pierced him with dirty looks, but he didn't really cared what they thought, the only thing in his alcohol-induced mind was to find his brother.

Suddenly, a hand clamped down on Cuphead's shoulder. The young porcelain froze and tilted his head up. Two glowing yellow eyes loomed over him. Connected to them was a shadowed face of a man, tucked under a black bowler hat. Now, normally Cuphead wasn't phased by weirdos. Living on an isle with a variety of personailtes would makes anyone immune to weirdness. This man however, was not Inkwell isles normal level of oddity. Even in his drunk state of mind, the cup sensed a peculiar aura from this stranger. An aura that seemed awfully familiar.

From the shadow man, he heard a distinctive deep voice, as clear as glass.

“Oh? How interesting,” He said

Cuphead stiffen. He could swear he was hearing the voice in his head. “What is?” He asked the man.

“You are, my boy,” The man smiled a crooked smile and leaned closer to the cup. Cuphead could feel a coldness surround him. “You remind me of your parents.” And with that, the shadow man straighten his posture and walked away.

Cuphead stared for a moment, shocked, confused, and drunk. Until the shadow man headed for the exit, and he went after him. “Wait! Stop!” He demanded, but the man was already leaving the area. “How do you know my parents!?” He staggered into everything trying to catch up. People, tables, chairs, he pushed them all out of his way and eventually caused enough upset commotion to attract Hilda Berg. The woman's eyes were as wide and surprised as the others. “Cuphead!” Hilda shouted, tailing after the young porcelain. But when she got to the door that led out of the party, Cuphead was already gone.

Cuphead raced through the lobby. He could see the shadow man in front of him, seemingly floating across the room with a trail of black smoke behind him. The cup demanded over and over for an explanation, now gone to shouting at the man the longer he refused to acknowledge him. “How do you know them? Who are you!?” The shadow man ignored every question and the young porcelain. He left the theatre entirely through the front double doors without so much as look over his shoulder to see if Cuphead was still following.

Cuphead ran faster, knocking anyone and anything in his path aside. It wasn't until he was out the front door and took several steps off the curb did he finally make a severe mistake. It happen so fast. He saw a blinding light heading straight for him, followed by an ear piercing screech. There was just enough time to realize it was a car before it struck him and thew to ground. Cuphead heard someone scream his name. Then nothing at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> References
> 
> Pinstripe from Pinstripe  
> Henry Stein from BATIM  
> The Conductor from A Hat In Time  
> Red haired man in his forties- ????


End file.
